W       ' 


UC-NRLF 


$B    22M    33b 


By  ZORA  I.  SHIELDS 

Department  of  English 
Omaha  High  School 


Read  before  the  Nebraska  Library  Association 

at  the  Eighteenth  Annual  Meeting,  held  in 

Lincoln,  Nebraska,  October  30-31,  1912 


Printed  (or  the  Omaha  Public  Library  by  the  courtesy  of  Mr.  C.  N.  Dietz, 
President  of  the  Omaha  Public  Library  Board 


Foreign  Literature  in 
Translation 


— Br— 
ZORA  I.  SjHIELDS 

Department  of  English,  Omaha  High  School 


Read  before  the  Nebraska  Library  Association  at  the  Eighteenth  Annual 
Meeting,  held  in  Lincoln,  Nebraska,  October  JO-JI,  igi2 


Printed  for  the  Omahx  Public  Library  by  the  courtesy  q^  Mr.  C.  N.  Dietz, 
President  of  the  Omaha  Public  Library  Board 


Foreword 


The  fiction  shelves  of  the  average  small  public  library 
contain  little  except  a  few  standard  English  novels  and 
the  works,  in  more  or  less  completeness,  of  our  American 
writers.  That  much  of  our  current  fiction  is  of  slight 
value  the  librarian  knows,  and  that  to  confine  her  pur- 
chases to  our  own  writers  leads  to  provincialism.  She 
would  like  to  add  books  more  vigorous  in  tone  and  she 
would  like  to  introduce  her  patrons  to  a  world  beyond 
our  own  borders,  but  in  approaching  foreign  fiction  she 
feels  the  timidity  of  venturing  into  an  unknown  field. 
The  tradition  of  wickedness  still  clings  to  the  "French 
novel." 

It  was  to  stimulate  in  our  Nebraska  librarians  an 
interest  in  these  continental  writers  and  to  inform  them 
of  what  was  desirable  and  available  in  translation  that 
we  asked  Miss  Zora  Shields,  a  woman  of  unusual  attain- 
ments and  breadth  of  reading,  to  prepare  this  paper  for 
a  meeting  of  the  Nebraska  Library  Association.  The 
limited  edition,  printed  chiefly  for  use  in  our  own  state, 
was  quickly  exhausted  and  an  unexpected  demand  came 
from  outside.  To  meet  this  demand  it  was  decided  to 
reprint.  In  reprinting  for  more  general  distribution,  this 
word  of  explanation  seems  necessary,  for  it  will  be  seen 
that  the  purpose  of  the  paper  was  only  to  suggest  and 
not  in  any  sense,  to  furnish  a  complete  bibliography. 
'.'  .  CHARLOTTE  TEMPLETON, 
.'.   «  .  Secretary,  Public  Library  Commission. 


Foreign  Literature  in  Translation 

I  have  limited  my  subject  in  two  ways:  I  have  considered 
only  fiction,  the  novel  and  the  drama;  and  I  have  tried  to  keep 
to  the  nineteenth  century,  and  toward  the  close  rather  than  the 
beginning  of  that  period. 

Twenty-five  years  ago,  even  fifteen  years  ago,  the  average 
American  had  little  or  no  acquaintance  with  European  literature. 
If  he  were  well-read,  he  knew  Goethe,  Schiller,  Victor  Hugo, 
Dante,  Cervantes.  But  usually  he  was  indifferent  toward  all 
"foreign"  writing,  even  contemptuous,  feeling  that  Shakespeare 
and  the  Bible  were  all  he  needed  in  the  way  of  literature. 

To-day  the  situation  has  changed.  In  literature,  as  in  all 
other  lines,  the  range  of  general  knowledge  demanded  in  every- 
day life  has  broadened  immensely.  We  are  brought  into  daily, 
almost  hourly  communication  with  all  parts  of  the  globe;  the 
cable,  the  telegraph,  the  increased  facility  of  travel — everything 
combines  to  bring  us  into  touch  with  other  peoples.  In  a  new 
sense  we  realize  that  "Nothing  relating  to  man  is  foreign  to  me." 
Also  this  is  the  age  of  psychology,  the  study  of  the  human  mind ; 
so  we  are  interested  not  merely  in  the  government,  the  wealth, 
the  products  of  these  peoples,  but  more  in  their  manners,  their 
characters,  and  their  modes  of  thinking.  In  no  way  can  we  so 
easily  begin  to  study  a  nation's  thought  as  in  its  literature,  espe- 
cially in  its  novel  and  drama,  which  are  direct  portrayals  of  human 
life.  So  to-day,  the  American  reading  public  demands  the  modern 
writers  of  Europe.  Our  newspapers  and  magazines  are  filled 
with  references,  criticisms,  and  discussions  of  the  later  writers, 
the  more  recent  novels  and  dramas  of  the  other  world.  This  fact 
shows  that  these  must  already  be  known  and  of  interest  to  a  large 
number  of  people;  also  it  arouses  curiosity  among  those  not 
already  informed.  To  read  one's  paper  comfortably  in  these 
days,  it  is  necessary  to  know  who  or  what  these  men  are, — ^this 
Strindberg,  or  d'Annunzio,  or  Gorki. 

Then  for  a  broad  view  and  an  adequate  understanding  of  our 
own  literature,  we  must  know  books  other  than  those  of  our  own 

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race;  our  English  authors  have  borrowed  and  imitated  on  all 
sides,  to  understand  them  more  clearly  we  must  know  their  origi- 
nals, their  models,  or  their  masters.  The  well-read  person  now 
must  be  familiar  with  the  drama  in  Norway,  in  Russia,  in  Ger- 
many, if  he  would  listen  intelligently, — say,  to  an  American  prob- 
lem play.  More  and  more  we  realize  the  truth  of  Matthew 
Arnold's  words:  "The  criticism  which  alone  can  much  help  us 
for  the  future  is  a  criticism  which  regards  Europe  as  being,  for 
intellectual  and  spiritual  purposes,  one  great  confederation,  bound 
to  a  joint  action  and  working  to  a  common  result." 

And  when  we  consider  a  matter  of  even  deeper  importance 
than  the  appreciation  of  literature,  we  find  that  the  most  striking 
and  important  problems  of  the  day, — social,  political,  sex,  re- 
ligious,— all  have  been  treated  more  fully,  more  carefully,  more 
earnestly  in  European  writings  than  in  English  or  American, — 
perhaps  because  these  questions  have  been  brought  home  more 
pressingly  in  older  and  more  crowded  communities.  So  there  is 
a  great  and  serious  reason  for  our  study  of  these  books,  not  so 
much  because  they  suggest  remedies,  for  they  give  only  vague, 
tentative  directions  for  the  most  part,  but  because  they  state  the 
case  so  clearly,  paint  the  picture  with  such  wonderful  accuracy  of 
detail;  they  are  experts  in  diagnosis.  And  any  cure  can  come 
only  after  a  thorough  understanding  of  the  disease. 

There  is  yet  another  reason,  an  urgent,  imperative  need,  that 
we  should  become  familiar  with  the  minds,  lives,  and  characters 
of  our  European  neighbors,  for  these  very  Europeans  are  in  our 
borders,  they  dwell  with  us,  they  are  soon  to  be  our  fellow- 
Americans.  How  can  we  hope  to  make  American  citizens  of 
them,  unless  we  understand  their  strength  and  their  weakness, 
that  we  may  develop  the  one  and  remedy  the  other?  We  gain 
some  of  this  knowledge  from  contact  with  the  people  themselves, 
but  slowly  and  imperfectly,  for  they  are  dazed  and  bewildered  in 
a  strange  new  environment,  their  national  characteristics  are 
blurred.  Their  books,  the  embodiment,  the  very  essence  of  their 
national  spirit,  can  give  us  this  much  needed  information  more 
clearly,  and  far  more  quickly.  Perhaps  we  are  inclined  to  look 
down  on  these  people  as  "foreigners,"  to  despise  them  a  little  as 
our  inferiors.  But  as  we  study  their  masterpieces,  we  must  lay 
aside  our  arrogant  sense  of  superiority,  to  realize  that  in  a  literary 
way  we  are  unsophisticated  beginners  who  are  permitted  to  go  to 
school  to  great  artists.  We  are  made  to  recognize  facts  to  which 
our  eyes  have  been  closed,  we  are  thrilled  and  swept  along  in 


lofty  flights  of  imagination,  we  see  laid  bare  before  its  the  human 
heart  and  soul  with  all  its  intricacies  of  vice  and  virtue — and  there 
fs  little  room  left  for  petty  pride;  we  must  feel  toleration,  sym- 
]:)athy,  respect,  brotherhood,  toward  the  races  which  have  given 
the  world  an  Ibsen,  a  Tolstoi,  a  Maeterlinck. 

If  then,  from  the  standpoint  of  public  need,  it  seems  essential 
that  the  public  library  should  contain  a  considerable  amount  of 
modern  European  fiction,  there  is  still  another  motive  which  must 
appeal  to  the  librarian,  and  that  is  the  charm  and  attraction  offered 
by  the  new,  the  unusual,  the  unfamiliar.  Stories  of  out-of-the- 
way  corners  of  the  world  have  always  had  a  mighty  fascination 
for  countless  readers,  and  here  are  hundreds  of  books  about 
places  known  to  most  of  us  only  by  name.  True,  English  authors 
have  imitated  these  books,  but  the  freshness  and  force  of  the 
original  is  more  alluring  than  any  copy.  To  a  librarian  who  is 
struggling,  almost  vainly,  against  the  popularity  of  a  Robert 
Chambers,  a  Harold  McGrath,  an  Augusta  Evans  Wilson,  it  would 
seem  a  boon  indeed  to  see  a  list  of  books,  attractive,  thrilling, 
exciting,  and  really  worth  printing.  To  be  sure  translations  are 
inadequate,  faulty,  and  generally  unsatisfactory,  but  even  crude 
translations  often  reveal  the  great  thought  or  the  wonderful  work 
of  characterization,  though  we  must  miss  the  beauties  of  sound 
and  style  and  all  the  delicate  shades  of  meaning. 

There  are  two  notes  of  warning  to  be  sounded.  In  the  first 
place,  many  of  these  books  are  not  intended  for  amusement ;  the 
true  purpose  and  value  is  revealed  only  after  careful  reading, 
re-reading  and  study.  They  are  worth  the  time  required,  but 
they  can  never  be  popular.  The  lovers  of  mere  plot,  who  are 
filled  with  a  feverish  excitement  of  curiosity  as  to  how  the  story 
is  to  end,  will  do  well  to  stick  to  "The  Prisoner  of  Zenda"  and 
its  hundreds  of  imitations.  Then,  too,  as  to  sex  and  religion, 
these  Europeans  seem  to  have  a  point  of  view  other  than  our  own. 
There  is  a  franker,  bolder  attitude ;  details  from  which  we  shrink 
are  recognized  as  necessary  factors  in  human  life  and  characters. 
I  feel  an  essential  difference  in  the  treatment  of  sex  relations 
among  the  Northern  and  the  so-called  Southern  races.  I  believe 
almost  all  thoughtful,  serious  people  admit  that  Ibsen  and  Tolstoi 
dwell  on  such  problems,  not  out  of  love  of  portraying  morbid 
erotic  and  neurotic  conditions,  but  because  of  an  agonized  per- 
ception of  a  destroying  ulcer,  and  a  sincere  desire  to  effect  a  cure. 
Is  not  Jane  Addams  actuated  by  the  same  motive?  It  may  be 
questioned  whether  that  is  the  motive  in  many  French,  Italian, 


and  Spanish  writers,  or  whether  we  find  there  mainly  dehght  in 
riotous  emotionalism.  For  this  reason  I  f^el  that  for  general 
circulation  more  of  the  literature  of  the  North  than  of  the  South 
is  advisable.  And  there  must  be  a  choice.  Once  the  librarian 
who  wished  anything  but  classic  German  literature  was  limited  to 
translations  by  "E.  Marlitt."  Now  such  a  flood  of  European 
literature  in  translation  is  surging  upon  us,  that  we  have  to 
choose.  My  list  does  not  pretend  in  the  least  to  be  complete,  even 
up  to  this  year,  1912 ;  it  merely  presents  some  of  the  books  which 
appear  especially  interesting  or  valuable,  or  which  have  aroused 
an  unusual  amount  of  discussion.  Each  year  brings  us  so  many 
new  translations,  of  constantly  increasing  attractiveness  and 
value,  that  no  list  could  long  pretend  to  be  complete. 

Among  the  peoples  of  Europe  who  offer  us  literature  that 
we  can  not  afford  to  miss,  are  Norwegians,  Danes,  Swedes,  Ger- 
mans, Russians,  Poles,  Spaniards,  Italians,  Belgians,  Hungarians, 
Frenchmen.  Certainly  comparisons  are  odious  here,  and  it  were 
a  rash  critic  indeed  who  would  venture  to  pronounce  on  com- 
parative merits,  to  declare  one  literature  more  important  than 
another,  for  each  has  its  own  special  contribution  to  the  intellec- 
tual content  of  the  world.  But  we  still  have  a  fondness  for  call- 
ing ourselves  Anglo-Saxons,  so  we  may  logically  begin  with 
Teutonic  races,  and  among  them  with  the  Scandinavians,  when 
we  consider  how  many  Norwegians,  Danes  and  Swedes  are  within 
the  borders  of  our  own  state. 

Modern  Scandinavians  are  alert,  progressive,  brilliant,  keen 
and  clear  thinkers  along  practical,  ethical  and  artistic  lines. 
To-day  we  are  just  beginning  to  awaken  to  a  realization  of  the 
tremendous  importance  of  Norse  myth  and  saga.  Comparative 
philology,  history,  Wagnerian  opera,  modern  art,  all  direct  our 
attention  to  this  field;  here  too  there  is  a  new  realm  of  wonder, 
of  supernatural  beings  and  events  marvelously  appealing  to  child 
and  youth — an  entirely  new  Arabian  Nights.  Brunhilde,  Freya, 
V^alhalla,  Yggdrasil,  Sigurd,  Balder,  Odin,  the  Valkyries, — can 
any  names  be  more  potent?  We  find  in  Scandinavian  literature 
a  terseness,  a  vigor,  an  intensity  of  feeling  and  expression  which 
seem  peculiar  to  these  peoples — an  intensity  essentially  different 
from  Celtic  or  Oriental  fervour  and  passion,  but  no  less  stirring, 
with  its  background  of  glaciers  and  fjords,  dark,  turbulent  waters 
and  lands  wrapped  in  snow.  The  spirit  of  the  \^ikings  still  lives, 
still   sweeps   all  before   it  in  irresistible  victory;   the   "splendid 

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seriousness'*  is  still  there,  and  still  may  it  be  said,  ''Hard  and  cold 
grey,  with  hidden  fire,  was  the  temper  of  these  people.' 

It  is  surely  unnecessary  to  say  that  a  complete  edition  of 
Ibsen's  dramas  is  much  to  be  desired.  Whether  we  feel  antagon- 
ism or  admiration  for  this  modern  prophet,  at  least  he  has  stirred 
more  minds,  and  aroused  more  discussion  than  any  other  one 
modern  dramatist;  and  to  arouse  thought,  to  awaken  the  world 
to  some  of  its  weaknesses  and  mistakes  was  surely  his  aim; 
Huneker  calls  him  "a  dynamic  grumbler,  like  Carlyle."  It  is 
absolutely  necessary  to  know  ''The  Doll's  House,"  "Ghosts,' 
"The  Pillars  of  Society,"  "Hedda  Gabler,"  if  we  try  to  keep  up 
at  all  with  the  march  of  modern  thought. 

If  we  shrink  from  the  pessimistic  pictures  and  cold,  abrupt, 
clear-cut  style  of  Ibsen,  we  find  the  opposite  in  his  famous  friend 
and  rival,  Bjornson.  "Synnove  Solbakken,"  "Arne,"  and  "The 
Bridal  March"  must  attract  youth  as  well  as  age,  with  their  mar- 
velous simplicity  and  idyllic  qualities,  their  depth  of  understand- 
ing for  the  sufferings  of  youth,  its  shyness,  ignorance,  restlessness 
and  passion.  Bjornson  is  not  merely  happy,  he  is  joyous;  he 
expresses  himself  with  simplicity,  clearness,  and  terseness.  Since 
he  loves  the  people  and  is  the  very  personification  of  the  demo- 
cratic spirit,  he  seems  especially  suitable  for  our  Republic.  Two 
books  of  his  later  years  are  interesting  in  a  deeper,  more  prob- 
lematic way :  in  "In  God's  Way,"  Bjornson  has  studied  carefully 
the  effect  of  narrow  orthodoxy,  conventionality  and  prejudice; 
in  "The  Heritage  of  the  Kurts"  he  has  given  us  a  new  ideal  of 
education,  its  problems,  methods  and  aims,  very  appealing  to  us 
because  we  are  beginning  to  work  a  little  along  the  lines  he  sug- 
gests. A  drama,  "Sigurd  Slembe,"  seems  to  me  important  be- 
cause it  deals  with  the  old  Viking  period,  so  stirring  and  wild, 
and  still  has  for  its  central  problem  a  modern  ethical  question. 
If  we  can  draw  near  in  any  way  the  Eddas,  the  Sagas,  it  certainly 
is  worth  while. 

Another  Norwegian  writer,  decidedly  less  familiar  in 
America,  is  Jonas  Lie.  In  this  man  himself  and  reflected  in  his 
work,  there  is  a  strange  but  attractive  mixture ;  he  is  the  son  of 
an  able,  practical  Norwegian  lawyer  with  an  intense  grip  on 
reality,  and  of  a  mother  of  Finnish  or  Gypsy  blood,  who  imparted 
to  her  son  a  love  of  the  eerie,  the  uncanny,  a  fondness  for  lux- 
uriant wealth  of  color,  a  sympathy  with  the  wild,  the  untamed, 
the  rebellious  in  nature  and  in  human  beings.  "The  Barque 
Future"  is  interesting  because  of  its  realistic  picture  of  sailors* 


and  fishers'  life  in  Norway,  also  for  its  touches  of  weird  Finnish 
life  and  character;  it  is  a  haunting  tale  with  an  intensely  realistic 
and  prosaic  plot,  which  still  is  permeated  by  a  romantic  atmo- 
sphere. Much  like  it  is  "The  Pilot  and  His  Wife/'  But  in 
"Niobe"  and  "The  Commodore's  Daughters"  the  other  side  of 
Lie's  mind  appears,  for  they  are  detailed  stories  of  every-day  life, 
convincing  in  their  simple  reality,  the  exact  study  of  the  psychol- 
ogy of  modern  family  life,  just  as  true  in  America  as  in  Norway. 
Lie  reminds  one  somewhat  of  Arnold  Bennett,  but  his  work  is 
simpler,  the  outlines  are  clearer,  and  he  is  always  intensely  in 
earnest. 

One  or  two  books  of  the  Swedish  writer,  Selma  Lagerlof, 
are  desirable,  because  of  her  vivid  imagination  and  very  unusual 
style.  Following  no  law,  no  rule,  she  has  worked  out  in  "The 
Story  of  Gosta  Berling"  several  important  problems.  She  belongs 
to  the  extreme  romantic  school  and  her  short  stories  in  "From  a 
Swedish  Homestead"  and  "The  Girl  from  the  Marsh  Croft"  are 
almost  like  Irish  folk-tales. 

To  some  Strindberg  is  an  insane  and  immoral  monster;  to 
others,  he  bears  a  great  message.  He  certainly  has  aroused  great 
admiration  among  European  critics  and  considerable  discussion 
in  England  and  America.  The  story  runs  that  Ibsen  said  of  him, 
"There  is  one  who  will  be  greater  than  I.'*  But  he  can  hardly  be 
considered  for  general  circulation. 

When  we  reach  German  books,  we  realize  anew  that  the 
English  and  the  Germans  were  sister-races  of  the  same  Teutonic 
tribe,  for  our  literatures  are  kindred,  and  resemble  each  other 
strongly.  We  find  many  of  our  ideas  of  morality  and  ethics,  the 
same  familiar  atmosphere  of  every-day  home  life,  the  same 
commonplace  vices  and  virtues,  something  of  the  same  emotional 
restraint.  This  very  similarity  makes  it  hard  to  state  the  differ- 
ence, to  say  just  what  makes  German  literature  distinct.  The 
German  is  philosophical,  introspective ;  he  is  a  student,  a  worker, 
a  thinker,  a  deep  ponderer  on  the  problems  of  life,  of  the  soul,  of 
fate.  He  is  consciously  introspective ;  he  does  not  write  to  amuse, 
to  entertain.  His  study  of  souls  may  take  the  form  of  intense 
realism,  as  in  Hauptmann's  "Weavers,"  or  it  may  appear  in  lofty 
symbolism  as  in  "The  Sunken  Bell."  Whichever  it  is,  it  is  built 
on  the  basis  of  the  slow,  exact,  careful  spirit  of  German  scientific 
research,  to  which  the  whole  world  does  homage.  Solidity  and 
depth  seem  to  me  the  chief  characteristics,  for  to  Germany  we  owe 
Schopenhauer,    Nietzsche,    Kant,    Hegel,    Leibnitz,    Mommsen, 

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Ranke.  Of  course  it  is  to  be  assumed  that  all  libraries  own  the 
works  of  Goethe  and  Wagner.  There  are  many  German  writers 
to-day  of  skill  and  importance ;  I  shall  attempt  to  discuss  only  the 
three  or  four  most  prominent. 

Hauptmann  is  certainly  most  lofty  in  thought,  view,  and 
purpose.  He  sees  the  errors,  the  pettiness,  the  degradation,  the 
failures  in  human  life  as  well  as  any  realist,  but  he  has  a  nobility, 
a  lofty  morality,  an  ultimate  faith  which  save  him  always  from 
the  air  of  sordidness  and  debauchery  of  many  modern  realists. 
**The  Sunken  Bell"  and  "Hannele"  are  necessary  in  a  progressive 
library.  They  are  not  simple,  they  will  never  be  popular,  but 
neither  is  Shakespeare's  "Tempest."  Less  familiar  is  "The 
Weavers,"  a  play  which  may  well  win  attention  everywhere  in 
these  days  of  labor  agitation,  for  it  is  an  accurate  painting  of  the 
misery  of  a  Silesian  weavers'  strike.  "Lonely  Lives"  is  intro- 
spective in  the  extreme,  since  it  shows  us  in  one  blinding  flash 
the  agony  and  struggle  of  old-fashioned,  orthodox  parents  of  an 
advanced,  philosophical  son,  of  a  simple,  loving,  uneducated  wife, 
and  of  a  progressive,  educated  modern  woman, — these  are  not 
caricatures,  but  real  people.  "The  Rats"  summons  before  us  the 
tragedy  and  complications  of  life  in  a  tenement.  "Rosa  Bernd" 
is  a  most  sympathetic  study  of  the  struggle  made  by  a  beautiful, 
lower-class  girl,  who  finally  sinks  beneath  the  horror  of  modern 
social  conditions, — and  fate.  "And  Pippa  Dances"  will  furnish 
an  enigma  over  which  to  study  indefinitely. 

Sudermann  is  more  simple,  easier  to  understand,  more  popu- 
lar ;  his  characters  are  real  men  and  women  and  his  situations  are 
familiar,  but  we  may  quarrel  with  the  probabilities  of  his  plot  and 
his  conclusion.  He  is  not  the  deep  philosopher,  but  the  dramatist, 
watching  for  effective  stage  tricks.  "Dame  Care"  grips  us  with 
its  sordid  financial  struggle  and  the  petty  but  bitter  anxieties  of 
family  life.  "The  Joy  of  Living,"  wonderfully  translated  by 
Edith  Wharton,  and  "Magda"  are  becoming  so  familiar  to  us  as 
we  see  them  on  the  stage,  that  we  even  dare  to  differ  from  the 
interpretations  of  Mrs.  Fiske  and  Mrs.  Patrick  Campbell.  To  my 
mind,  one  of  Sudermann's  best  bits  of  work  is  "Fritzchen,"  one 
of  the  three  little  plays  in  "Morituri." 

With  much  less  technical  skill,  less  literary  craftsmanship, 
Frenssen  has  aroused  general  interest  because  of  a  bare,  uncalcu- 
lating,  homely  portrayal  of  the  lives  of  a  group  of  people.  He 
is  somewhat  like  De  Morgan,  or  Dickens;  he  shows  the  same 
kindly  sympathy,  the  same  ultimate  optimism,  the  same  careless, 

9 


involved  structure,  the  same  love  of  digression.  Of  '']6rn  Uhl," 
one  critic  has  said:  "This  book  has  sprung  from  the  deep  con- 
sciousness of  modern  Germany  and  utters  the  longings,  thoughts 
and  aspirations  of  the  German  heart  in  a  way  no  other  modern 
book  has  done.  It  is  a  living  book,  it  is  a  book  throbbing  with  real 
life,  passion  and  poetry."  Again,  "Frenssen's  books  sing  of  nature 
and  human  life,  grand,  strong,  and  true;  of  confidence  in  man,  in 
the  eternal  powers,  in  God.  They  sing  of  a  simple,  original 
Christianity — the  religion  of  Christ,  the  Man  of  Galilee."  Un- 
doubtedly Frenssen's  greatest  book  is  "Jorn  Uhl,"  some  even  say 
he  is  an  author  of  one  book,  so  again  he  reminds  us  of  De  Morgan. 
For  myself  I  have  exactly  the  same  experience :  "Joseph  Vance" 
may  be  De  Morgan's  greatest  book,  but  I  cannot  give  up  "Some- 
how Good"  and  "It  Never  Can  Happen  Again;"  so  also  I  am 
very  glad  Frenssen  wrote  "Holyland." 

Ebers  gives  us  a  chance,  a  rare  one,  to  read  historical  novels 
of  ancient  Egypt,  written  by  a  thorough  scholar  in  Egyptology. 
Auerbach  and  Rosegger  permit  us  to  know  and  love  the  German 
peasant.     And  so  on. 

Within  the  last  ten  years,  Slavonic  races  in  great  numbers 
have  been  surging  into  our  land,  and  to  many  of  us  that  has 
seemed  a  danger,  a  menace,  for  we  thought  them  crude,  almost 
savage.  In  our  beet-fields,  in  our  stock-yards  are  almost  number- 
less Russians,  and  of  Russia  we  know  little  or  nothing.  For  the 
last  twenty-five  years  Europe  has  praised  Russian  literature  and 
Russian  writers,  but  America  is  barely  beginning  to  appreciate 
their  greatness.  The  race  is  puzzHng  to  us  in  many  ways:  we 
begin  to  see  their  capabilities.  Within  the  last  year  Mary  Antin 
has  taught  us  a  much-needed  lesson.  In  the  May  Atlantic  of  this 
year  Margaret  Sherwood  has  characterized  Russian  literature  very 
aptly :  "In  the  Russian  work  there  is  a  deep  and  tragic  sense  of 
fate,  an  undercurrent  of  emotion  which  makes  their  apparently 
unmoved  recitation  of  details  full  of  tragic  power.  One  finds  it 
in  Tolstoy,  in  TurgenieflF,  in  Dostoievsky.  It  comes  from  a  depth 
of  temperament  that  perhaps  has  in  it  something  of  the  Oriental 
sense  of  unfathomable  meanings.  Of  the  thousand  and  one  facts 
of  daily  life  the  Russian  can  work  out  a  drama  of  destiny  wherein 
the  very  surroundings  seem  heavily  charged  with  significance. 
That  splendid,  listening  impersonality  of  the  Russian,  the  sphinx- 
sense  of  mystery,  is  a  race  characteristic,  and  cannot  be  borrowed. 
.  . .  That  patient  suspension  of  judgment  during  long  brooding  no 


10 


To-day  the  Russian  writer  best  known  in  America,  prac- 
tically the  only  one  known  generally,  is  Tolstoi.  Whether  he  be 
an  artist,  a  philosopher,  a  great  author,  a  religious  teacher,  or 
only  a  gigantic  mistake  and  a  pathetic  failure,  is  a  question  useless 
to  discuss.  This  at  least  is  true :  he  has  emphasized  the  value  of 
independent  thought,  of  simplicity  of  life,  of  purity  in  spirit  and 
art,  of  courage.  He  may  be  merely  a  fanatic,  but  to  many  men 
in  Europe  and  America,  he  has  been  and  is  a  Master.  He  has 
surely  given  us  masterpieces  in  his  studies  of  the  primitive  life 
and  mind:  "The  Cossacks,'*  which  some  one  has  called  "a  little 
idyl  of  the  Caucasus,"  "Master  and  Man,"  "Hadji  Murad,"  "The 
Three  Deaths,"  "The  Death  of  Ivan  Ilyitch."  The  most  discussed 
books  are  "Anna  Karenina,"  which  discusses  marriage  without 
love,  and  "War  and  Peace ;"  in  Russia  these  are  put  into  the  hands 
of  young  girls ;  with  us  young  girls  and  boys  and  older  people  will 
refrain  from  two  and  three  volume  novels.  His  religious  writ- 
ings are  more  likely  to  be  read,  especially  "My  Confession"  and 
"My  Religion ;"  and  of  his  dramas  much  emphasis  is  being  placed 
on  "The  Power  of  Darkness."  An  eminent  critic  who  does  not 
praise  Tolstoi  overmuch  says  "a  stranger  who  would  understand 
Russia  of  the  nineteenth  century  must  read  Tolstoi." 

A  much  greater  artist,  a  much  kindlier  nature,  a  more  fasci- 
nating writer  is  Turgenev.  Both  in  style  and  thought  he  is 
attractive;  even  in  translation  we  can  appreciate  his  beauty  and 
delicacy,  his  aptness  of  expression.  In  "Dream  Tales"  we  find  a 
weird,  mystic,  haunting  sense  of  the  supernatural;  "Poems  in 
Prose"  are  marked  by  a  loftiness  of  emotional  appeal,  a  keenness 
of  insight  into  the  soul  of  man,  and  an  unerring  perception  of  the 
slightest  details  in  nature,  which  are  truly  poetic.  In  the  novels, 
"Fathers  and  Children,"  "On  the  Eve,"  "Smoke,"  "Liza,"  "Virgin 
Soil,'*  there  is  the  simplicity,  not  of  the  primitive  mind  but  of  the 
highest  culture,  and  a  sympathetic  appreciation  of  the  most  in- 
volved problems  of  modern  life.  According  to  able  critics  such 
as  Taine,  Turgenev  was  one  of  the  most  artistic  natures  that  has 
been  among  men  since  classic  times.  One  writer  has  said  of  his 
work  that  it  is  "a  symphony,  a  sweet  and  solemn  music  like  the 
sounds  of  the  forest;"  and  another  that  "Turgenev  is,  without 
exaggeration,  the  best  word-painter  of  landscape  that  ever  wrote." 

Entirely  different  from  these  two  Russians  is  Dostoyevski, 
the  great  psychological  expert.  Bazan  says:  "He  leads  us  into 
a  new  region  of  aesthetics,  where  the  horrible  is  beautiful,  despair 
is  consoling,  and  the  ignoble  has  a  halo  of  sublimity ;  where  guilty 

11 


women  teach  gospel  truths,  and  men  are  regenerated  by  crimes ; 
where  the  prison  is  the  school  of  compassion,  and  fetters  are  a 
poetic  element."  This  man,  whose  personal  experience  shows 
almost  every  horror,  brutality  and  suffering  that  occurs  to  us  in 
connection  with  that  land  of  police  spies,  the  knout,  anarchy, 
massacres,  Siberia,  reveals  to  us  the  uttermost  sufferings,  not 
merely  of  the  human  body,  but  also  of  the  human  soul.  More 
than  any  other  Russian,  perhaps  more  than  any  other  European, 
he  is  influencing  modem  Hterature;  for  his  interest  is  in  finding 
a  redeeming  spark  in  the  souls  of  all,  even  of  the  most  degraded. 
An  epileptic,  bom  in  a  charity  hospital,  sentenced  to  be  shot  in 
prison,  enduring  four  years  of  hard  labor  in  Siberia,  facing  hun- 
ger, cold,  debt  continually,  he  speaks  from  actual  knowledge,  not 
imagination.  "Crime  and  Punishment"  is  called  the  profoundest 
psychological  study  since  "Macbeth."  If  Dostoyevski  shows  us 
only  one  side  of  life,  he  paints  that  to  perfection, — suffering 
humanity. 

There  is  still  another  Russian,  with  still  another  type  of  book. 
Gogol's  "Taras  Btilba"  is  a  wild,  thrilling,  barbaric  tale  of  an  old 
Cossack  chief;  it  may  well  be  called  a  Russian  epic,  for  while  it 
is  written  in  prose,  it  breathes  a  primitive,  heroic,  national  spirit 
and  action.  It  carries  the  reader  along  in  its  sweeping  enthusi- 
asm ;  even  in  its  wonderful  descriptions  of  nature  we  feel,  not  the 
artist's  fondness  for  a  picture,  but  the  Russian's  idolatrous,  pas- 
sionate love  for  his  boundless  steppes  with  their  flowers  and  birds, 
their  mighty  rivers,  their  stretches  of  snow  and  ice.  The  lavish 
and  vivid  figures  of  speech  are  Homeric ;  there  is  nothing  common- 
place or  hackneyed  about  this  book.  But  pick  up  a  volume  of 
Gogol's  short  stories,  "St.  John's  Eve,"  for  example,  and  a  sur- 
prise awaits  us;  for  in  "Old-fashioned  Farmers"  two  childish, 
puttering,  old  people  are  drawn,  with  a  wealth  of  detail  and  a 
love  that  attains  pathos.  "The  Cloak"  is  a  study,  careful  and 
true,  of  the  poverty-stricken  life  of  a  poor  old  copying-clerk, 
bitter,  dreary,  tragic.  Gogol's  understanding  of  the  untamed 
Cossack  did  not  dull  his  loving  perception  of  the  simple,  gentle, 
kindly  old  house-wife  and  the  mediocre  clerk. 

When  we  tum  to  the  books  of  the  Latin  races,  there  appears 
a  great  difficulty  and  a  new  problem.  Their  life  is  not  ours,  their 
thoughts  are  not  often  ours,  their  language  is  very  far  from  ours. 
It  is  only  in  basic  human  qualities  that  Teutonic  and  Latin  peoples 
can  sympathize.  So,  in  these  writings,  it  requires  time,  and  study, 
and  re-reading  to  understand  even  faintly. 

12    . 


Foremost  among  them  are  French  books,  and  here  are  so 
many  authors  whose  names  are  famous  that  one  is  confused  at 
the  very  outset.  We  must  all  be  acquainted  with  Victor  Hugo, 
Dumas,  both  father  and  son,  George  Sand,  Jules  Verne,  Eugene 
Sue.  But  beyond  that  the  ordinary  reader  must  limit  himself ; 
he  can  hardly  hope  to  become  acquainted  with  all  modern  French 
literature;  he  must  choose  types.  Also  this  motto  should  be 
emblazoned  above  French  books:  "The  French  novel  is  not  for 
the  young.  It  is  the  fruit  of  maturity,  addressed  to  maturity." 
Which,  being  translated,  means  that  they  dwell  on  sides  of  life 
which  English  writers  avoid  or  at  most  touch  very  lightly,  for 
their  conventions  are  very  different  from  ours.  But  this  is  a 
great,  a  very  great  literature.  Ever  since  mediaeval  days  French- 
men have  been  masters  of  the  art  of  story-telling,  they  are  still 
masters.  French  prose  for  more  than  a  hundred  years  has  been 
counted  one  of  the  most  perfect  mediums  in  the  world  for  ex- 
pressing thought ;  English  writers  have  learned  from  the  French. 
But  the  casual  reader  is  bewildered  by  this  wonderful  artistry  in 
words;  when  there  is  added  to  that,  Celtic  emotionalism,  and 
modern  realistic  standards  both  in  material  surroundings  and  in 
psychological  study,  he  is  beyond  his  depth.  These  books  are 
great,  some  from  the  point  of  view  of  exquisite  style,  some  from 
the  keenness  of  emotional  portrayal,  some  because  of  real  under- 
standing of  the  human  mind  and  heart  and  soul ;  but  for  the  most 
part  they  are  not  pleasant  reading,  except  to  the  morbid. 
Dostoyevski's  stories  of  idiots,  epileptics,  and  Siberian  exiles  have 
a  less  depressing  effect  than  Flaubert's  minute,  exact,  painfully 
accurate  study  of  innate  human  depravity  in  "Madame  Bovary." 
Somewhere  Stevenson  has  referred  to  the  hideous  thoughts  that 
crawl  like  reptiles  in  the  minds  of  all  of  us.  Much  of  modern 
French  fiction  seems  to  me  an  analysis  of  these  slimy  thoughts. 
And  there  is  a  blackness  of  pessimism  here  that  robs  even  the 
beautiful  words,  pictures,  and  thoughts  of  their  sincerity ;  nothing 
seems  real  or  worth  while.  The  Greek,  the  Norse,  the  Russian 
have  the  pessimism  of  fataHsm,  they  see  the  futility  of  man's 
struggle ;  but  the  Frenchman  has  no  belief  in  humanity. 

It  is  a  pleasure  to  turn  for  a  moment  to  the  great  Belgian 
mystic,  Maeterlinck,  who  may  be  discussed  here,  because  he  writes 
in  French.  It  should  always  be  remembered  that  this  symbolist 
is  one  of  a  large  French  school,  but  he  is  the  only  one  familiar 
to  an  English  public.  More  and  more  he  is  coming  to  be  a  factor 
in  modern  literature.     His  writings  have  an  air  of  mystic  holiness ; 

13 


>) 


the  material  world  hardly  exists  for  him;  the  soul  is  all  that  is 
real,  or  interesting  or  important.  By  mystery,  fairy-like  atmos- 
phere, strange  whispers  and  endless  repetitions,  he  lulls  to  sleep 
the  ordinary  senses,  our  critical  faculties,  our  inherited  prejudices 
and  literary  conventions ;  and  we,  as  souls,  watch  one  soul  speak 
to  another.  It  is  the  very  antithesis  of  materialism.  To  quote 
from  Symons:  "All  that  he  says,  we  know  already;  we  may 
deny  it,  but  we  know  it.  It  is  what  we  are  not  often  at  leisure 
enough  with  ourselves,  sincere  enough  with  ourselves,  to  realize ; 
what  we  often  dare  not  realize;  but  when  he  says  it,  we  know 
that  it  is  true,  and  our  knowledge  of  it  is  his  warrant  for  saying 
it.  He  is  what  he  is  precisely  because  he  tells  us  nothing  which 
we  do  not  already  know,  or  it  may  be,  what  we  have  known  and 
forgotten."  "The  Intruder,"  "The  Blind,"  and  "Home"  are  the 
simplest,  the  clearest,  for  no  one  can  fail  to  understand  and  be 
deeply  moved.  "Monna  Vanna,"  in  many  ways  more  conven- 
tional, seems  to  most  critics  a  marvelous  analysis  of  the  innermost 
relationship  of  human  souls  in  society.  And  Maeterlinck's  essays 
are  proving  to  many  people  just  as  interesting  as  his  plays. 

Turning  again  to  French  writers,  we  must  bear  in  mind  firmly 
that  here  are  hardly  a  dozen  books  to  be  put  into  the  hands  of  boys 
and  girls,  or  of  the  indiscriminating  reader.  But  many  of  these 
French  books  are  wonderful  works  of  art.  Since  these  authors 
are  so  many,  and  so  different,  it  has  seemed  easier  and  shorter  to 
give  you  many  brief  extracts  from  prominent  critics  in  an  attempt 
to  characterize  these  men. 

Many  of  the  greatest  French  writers  belong  to  the  realistic 
school,  which  has  for  its  master,  Balzac.  Symons  says  that  the 
complexity,  the  confusion,  the  turmoil  of  the  nineteenth  century 
has  demanded  a  new  epic,  and  that  the  novel  with  its  infinity  of 
detail,  as  Balzac  has  created  it,  has  become  the  modern  epic,  the 
equivalent  of  the  hurrying  life  of  great  cities.  "The  novel,  as 
Balzac  conceived  it,  has  created  the  modern  novel,  but  no  modern 
novelist  has  followed,  for  none  has  been  able  to  follow,  Balzac 
on  his  own  lines."  For  to  Balzac  the  important  thing  is  not  the 
endless  detail  itself,  but  the  fact  that  that  detail  was  the  expression 
of  a  man's  brain,  heart,  will ;  he  never  forgot  the  human  problem 
back  of  all  the  struggles;  he  is  interested  in  the  way  each  man 
works  out  his  fate,  and  is  not  sure  that  one  way  is  more  correct 
or  better  than  another,  so  he  watches  and  paints  all  impartially. 
To  understand  the  greatness  of  Balzac,  read  "Pere  Goriot"  and 
then  "Clayhanger,"  in  which  Arnold  Bennett  is  attempting  to  use 

14 


the  same  method.  Balzac's  books  are  not  meant  to  entertain,  but 
to  teach.  But  these  modern  Frenchmen  do  not  stop  their  plot  to 
moralize,  as  did  George  Eliot;  they  realize  that  their  story,  their 
plot,  if  perfect,  ought  to  teach  the  lesson  more  forcibly  than  any 
sermon;  for  in  a  sermon  the  truth  is  told  us,  but  in  these  books 
we  are  compelled  to  work  out  to  this  conclusion  in  our  own  hearts 
and  minds,  so  it  has  become  a  part  of  us.  Even  if  it  is  true  that 
no  one  before  thirty  can  understand  Balzac,  stillan  y  one  can  read 
and  feel  the  greatness  of  such  a  masterpiece  as  "Eugenie 
Grandet." 

After  Balzac  comes  a  long  line  of  authors,  each  different, 
each  striking.  Flaubert,  the  greatest  of  Balzac's  successors,  is 
even  a  greater  artist  than  the  Master.  His  is  a  perfect  style,  but 
he  lacks  the  sympathy,  the  kindliness  of  the  other;  Flaubert  in 
the  coldest,  crudest  way  possible  dissects  the  human  soul.  Saints- 
bury  says :  "The  ordinary  novel  is  a  compromise  and  a  conven- 
tion. Of  compromises  and  conventions  Flaubert  knows  nothing. 
He  dares  in  especial  to  show  failure,  and  I  think  it  will  be  found 
that  this  is  what  few  novelists  dare,  unless  the  failure  be  of  a 
tragic  and  striking  sort.  He  draws  the  hopeful  undertakings  that 
come  to  nothing,  the  dreams  that  never  in  the  least  become  deeds, 
the  good  intentions  that  find  their  usual  end,  the  evil  intentions 
which  also  are  balked  and  defeated,  the  parties  of  pleasure  that 
end  in  pain  or  weariness,  the  enterprises  of  pith  and  moment  that 
somehow  fall  through." 

Of  the  other  realists,  Zola  and  Daudet  are  the  best  known; 
Zola  because  he  is  so  terrible,  so  sickening,  so  filthy,  because  he 
sees  in  humanity  only  the  beast;  Daudet,  because  he  unites  with 
realism  a  sense  of  humor  and  an  appeal  to  average  human 
sympathies. 

Another  group  of  writers  in  France  are  the  story-tellers  "par 
excellence."  Here  belong  Gautier,  Maupassant,  Coppee,  Merimee, 
Pierre  Loti.  Gautier  has  given  us  "Captain  Fracasse,"  a  romantic 
tale  perfectly  suited  for  children  in  their  teens,  of  a  perfectly 
good  young  nobleman  who  goes  through  a  series  of  amazing 
adventures.  Gautier  is  a  master  of  words,  of  pictures ;  he  loves 
beauty  and  color — ^gold,  marble,  and  purple.  His  short  stories, 
translated  by  a  master  of  English  also  a  worshipper  of  beauty, 
Lafcadio  Hearn,  are  models  of  the  art  of  description  and  narra- 
tion. He  loved  the  Orient.  It  has  been  said:  "His  stories  are 
a  substitute  for  opium  and  hashish,  and  take  us  into  a  world  like 
that  of  old  romance  and  myth,  where  we  meet  our  own  souls 

15 


walking  in  strange  clothes."  Maupassant  is  a  cynic,  who  paints 
by  means  of  his  senses,  the  things  that  appeal  to  the  senses. 
James  says :  "He  fixes  a  hard  eye  on  some  small  spot  of  human 
life,  usually  some  ugly,  dreary,  shabby,  sordid  one,  takes  up  the 
particle,  and  squeezes  it  either  till  it  grimaces  or  till  it  bleeds. 
Sometimes  the  grimace  is  very  droll,  sometimes  the  wound  is  very 
horrible;  but  in  either  case  the  whole  thing  is  real,  observed, 
noted,  and  represented,  not  an  invention,  or  a  castle  in  the  air. 
Maupassant  sees  human  life  as  a  terribly  ugly  business  relieved 
by  the  comical,  but  even  the  comedy  for  the  most  part  is  the 
comedy  of  misery,  of  avidity,  of  ignorance,  helplessness  and 
grossness."  But  through  one  of  the  strangest  freaks  of  genius, 
this  cynical  Maupassant  wrote  "Pierre  and  Jean,"  a  masterpiece  of 
understanding,  of  sympathetic  understanding,  of  a  dreary  tragedy 
of  every-day  life.  Alerimee  is  the  author  of  two  works  practically 
perfect;  "Carmen,"  a  wonderful  story  of  the  Spanish  gypsy,  as 
fascinating  as  the  familiar  but  never  hackneyed  "Toreador  Song" 
in  its  dramatization ;  and  "Colomba,"  a  living  expression  of  the 
wild,  fierce  Corsican  spirit,  in  its  independence  and  cruelty  and 
revenge.  These  are  simple,  clear-cut,  almost  Greek  studies  of 
elemental  passions  and  elemental  people.  Coppee  is  known  mainly 
for  his  short  stories,  which  are  almost  un-French  in  their  purity 
and  moral  elevation,  very  simple,  very  touching  stories  of  the 
lives  of  the  lowly,  tales  like  the  work  of  modern  Scandinavians. 
In  one  called  "At  Table,"  he  gives  us  a  vivid  picture  of  the  beauty, 
the  splendor,  the  attractiveness  of  a  banquet  among  aristocrats; 
then  he  makes  us  feel  just  how  much  misery,  agony  and  tragedy 
have  gone  to  produce  each  detail  of  the  banquet.  Pierre  Loti, 
whom  some  one  has  called  a  French  Kipling,  cannot  be  judged 
by  any  literary  standards  we  have  set  up.  It  is  easy  to  find 
blemishes  in  his  style,  and  he  is  very  simple,  with  little  concern 
about  modern  psychological  complexities;  also  he  is  not  immoral, 
but  unmoral — morality  means  nothing  to  him.  But  if  this  roving 
sailor,  who  personally  is  the  most  exquisite  fop,  had  given  us  but 
one  book,  "An  Iceland  Fisherman,"  that  tragic  tale  of  Breton 
fisher-folk  would  have  gained  him  lasting  fame.  Lovers  of  the 
strange,  the  exotic,  can  find  in  Loti  the  essence  of  Oriental  emo- 
tion, whether  in  Turkish  harems,  in  Africa,  Egypt,  Jerusalem,  or 
Pekin.  Gosse  says:  "There  is  no  more  curious  phenomenon  in 
the  existing  world  of  letters  than  the  fascination  of  Loti.  Here 
is  a  man  and  a  writer  of  a  thousand  faults,  and  we  forgave  them 
all.  .  .  .  For  those  who  have  passed  under  the  spell  of  Loti,  he 

16 


is  irresistible.  He  wields  the  authority  of  the  charmer,  of  the 
magician,  and  he  leads  us  whither  he  chooses.  The  critical  spirit 
is  powerless  against  a  pen  so  delicately  sensitive,  so  capable  of 
playing  with  masterly  effect  on  all  the  finer  stops  of  our  emotions.'* 
Bazin  seems  almost  an  exception  in  French  literature;  he  is 
not  merely  moral,  but  deeply  religious,  with  the  haunting,  melan- 
choly sweetness  and  resignation  of  the  Catholic  Church;  he 
dwells  in  an  air  of  spiritual  elevation  and  serene  peace.  Anatole 
France,  on  the  contrary,  is  the  personification  of  scepticism,  of 
irony,  of  the  spirit  of  the  fashionable  man  of  the  world.  But  this 
sceptic  wrote  "The  Crime  of  Sylvestre  Bonnard,*'  a  book  of  sweet, 
wholesome  simplicity,  a  beautiful  book  about  a  dear  old  man  who 
is  a  profound  scholar  and  yet  intensely  human. 

A  French  writer,  perhaps  not  of  the  first  or  second  rank, 
but  of  great  charm,  clear  vision,  and  deep  sympathy,  is  Edmond 
Rostand.  However  much  we  may  criticise  "Chantecler,"  and  say 
that  it  isn't  art,  that  the  thought  is  trivial  and  obscured  by  the 
unusual  but  classic  device  of  portraying  animals,  we  never  forget 
that  Rostand  created  also  "L'Aiglon"  and  "Cyrano."  That  piti- 
ful, heart-rending  picture  of  "L'Aiglon,"  Napoleon's  son,  with 
all  the  delusions  and  enthusiasms  of  youth  and  the  final  failure 
of  the  frail  human  creature  to  live  up  to  his  opportunities,  is  a 
triumph  of  the  newer,  the  modern  romanticism.  "Cyrano"  is  one 
of  the  few  characters  in  French  fiction  generally  known  to  English 
readers;  he  is  a  French  "Sentimental  Tommy,"  he  is  a  study  in 
the  egotism  of  the  average  man,  with  his  dreams  and  boasts  and 
sentimentalities,  drawn  with  true  Celtic  perception  of  the  ridicu- 
lous, the  pathetic,  the  tragic. 

"Cyrano"  is  so  plainly  modeled  after  "Don  Quixote*'  that 
Rostand  may  easily  be  taken  as  the  connecting  link,  or  the  intro- 
duction to  Spain,  the  land  of  chivalry,  the  land  of  "The  Cid,"  of 
Cervantes,  of  Calderon.  Brunetiere  says  that  Spanish  literature 
has  "preserved  for  us  all  that  deserved  to  survive  of  the  spirit  of 
the  Middle  Ages."  Here  as  in  France  we  find  many  novelists 
and  dramatists,  though  even  the  four  greatest  are  unknown  to 
the  American  public,  even  by  name.  All  who  know  Spanish  lit- 
erature agree  that  here  are  minds  well  worth  our  study.  Valera, 
Valdes,  Galdos,  and  Echegaray,  are  all  to  be  had  in  translations, 
and  unusually  good  translations.  One  critic  says :  "Valera,  for 
all  his  polite  scepticism,  is  a  Spaniard  of  the  best,  a  mystic  by 
intuition  and  inheritance,  a  doubter  by  force  of  circumstances  and 
education.     His  best  will  be  read  as  long  as  Spanish  literature 

17 


endures.  He  is  a  great  creative  artist,  and  the  embodiment  of  a 
people's  genius."  Galdos  is  "a  prolific  inventor,  a  minute  ob- 
server of  detail,  who  combines  realism  with  fantasy,  flat  prose 
with  poetic  imagination."  His  works  are  absolutely  clean.  Valdes 
is  not  Spanish,  he  is  cosmopolitan.  He  will  never  be  a  popular 
writer,  for  he  demands  study,  since  he  emphasizes  spiritual  values. 
Of  Echegaray  a  writer  in  Poet  Lore  says :  "There  is  a  profound 
idealism  about  the  dramas,  a  lofty  impatience  of  conventional 
moral  standards,  an  intense  conviction  of  the  inherent  relations 
of  sin  and  retribution,  a  stern  and  rugged  grandeur  which  re- 
mind one  of  Victor  Hugo,  to  whom  Echegaray  is,  in  fact,  often 
likened  by  the  Spanish  critics."  To  me,  he  seems  more  influenced 
by  and  akin  to  the  stern  work  of  Ibsen.  At  least  here  is  the 
lesson  of  duty  and  morality  voiced  for  us  by  the  far  South. 

To  characterize  modem  Italian  literature  seems  well  nigh 
impossible ;  for  in  the  four  prominent  writers  of  to-day  there  are 
seen  two  distinct  types.  Fogazzaro,  Serao,  and  Verga  are  serious, 
high-minded  artists,  intent  on  the  ethical  value  of  human  Hfe, 
showing  their  Italian  nature  mainly  in  a  beautiful  style,  more 
riotous  in  color,  figures  and  imagination  than  French  simplicity, 
and  also  in  the  Southern  impulsiveness  and  in  the  fervid  passion 
of  the  Tropics.  Fogazzaro,  who  has  something  of  the  sweetness 
and  religious  atmosphere  of  Bazin,  is  interpreted  for  us  by  an 
Italian  critic :  "He  works  for  the  unraveling  of  perplexing  prob- 
lems; to  bring  clarity  where  seeming  darkness  reigns;  to  add 
greater  dignity  to  man  by  enlarging  his  mission  beyond  terrestrial 
usefulness;  to  harmonize  progress  with  his  faith.  Idealism  and 
deep  sane  faith  form  the  essence  of  his  life."  One  of  the  fore- 
most writers  of  modern  Italy  is  Serao,  a  woman  and  a  realist. 
A  newspaper  reporter  by  training,  she  knows  how  to  use  effec- 
tively the  most  trivial  details;  in  "The  Ballet  Dancer,"  we  are 
made  to  feel  the  grinding  poverty  of  trying  to  keep  up  appear- 
ances by  the  poor  girl's  worries  over  her  six-year-old  plume, 
which  she  had  curled  over  the  back  of  the  scissors,  and  which 
would  be  ruined  by  the  rain;  but  there  is  more  sympathy  and 
human  understanding  in  Serao  than  in  most  French  realists. 
Verga,  whom  we  know  mainly  as  the  author  of  "Cavalleria 
Rusticana,"  is  an  intense  realist,  who  gives  us  the  life  of  Sicilian 
peasants.  Like  Hardy,  whom  he  resembles,  he  shows  us  grim 
reality.  Of  the  "House  by  the  Medlar-tree,"  Howells  says:  "I 
can  praise  Verga's  book  without  reserve  as  one  of  the  most  per- 
fect pieces  of  literature  that  I  know.    When  we  talk  of  the  great 

18 


modern  movement  toward  reality,  we  speak  without  the  docu- 
ments if  we  leave  this  book  out."  Verga's  story  of  the  poor 
little  *'St.  Joseph's  Ass"  is  one  of  the  most  pathetic  and  convinc- 
ing tales  of  the  sufferings  of  man  and  beast.  Verga  seems  to  me 
a  master  of  realism. 

The  Italian  writer  most  talked  of  to-day  is  d'Annunzio.  One 
critic  sees  in  his  works  symbolism:  "There  are  in  d'Annunzio, 
reachings  out  toward  a  new  and  more  spiritual  conception  of  life, 
though  he  has  descended  into  hell  for  his  vantage-ground."  For 
myself,  I  fail  to  get  the  symbolism,  the  grosser  details  obtrude 
themselves  on  me;  I  feel  a  sensualist  reveling  in  his  sensuality, 
though  all  must  admit  a  beauty  of  language  which  is  new  to  the 
literature  of  the  world.  Kennard  seems  to  me  to  express  very 
vigorously  what  most  readers  will  find  in  d'Annunzio.  *'The 
body,  the  body,  the  flesh  and  the  sensations  of  the  flesh — this  has 
appealed  to  him  as  the  most  marvelous  thing  in  the  universe,  to 
which  all  else  must  contribute  and  interpret.  To  these  lesser 
sensations  he  is  keenly  alive.  He  can  describe,  a  kiss,  except  for 
its  spiritual  significance  and  communion;  he  can  describe  an 
ankle,  he  can  describe  a  hand,  so  that  there  is  nothing  lacking. 
He  perceives,  too,  all  that  is  in  a  sunset,  save  God  and  the  soul ; 
to  these  he  is  insensible.  ...  Of  the  tragic  beauty,  the  sad  poetry 
of  human  destiny,  he  only  gives  us  a  superficial  understanding. 
He  knows  life's  fitful  fever,  but  he  does  not  know  life's  real  rich- 
ness and  serenity.  He  knows  life's  storms,  but  not  life's  calms ; 
life's  weakness,  but  not  life's  strength.  He  shows  us  beauty,  but 
it  is  hectic  beauty.  D'Annunzio  is  ignorant  of  the  majesty  of  the 
human  soul,  of  the  sublimity  of  human  existence,  and  of  the 
Powers  of  the  World  to  Come ;  consequently  this  apostle  of  Joy, 
Art,  and  Beauty  never  feels  the  true  joy,  never  attains  the  highest 
art,  never  knows  the  true  soul  of  beauty." 

To  conclude,  I  fear  that  I  have  impressed  you  unduly  with 
the  fact  that  there  is  a  large  amount  of  modern  European  litera- 
ture to  be  had  in  translation.  I  feel  sincerely  that  much  of  it  is 
very  valuable.  But  if  a  library  has  limited  means,  there  Is  a 
chance  to  get  a  general  acquaintance  and  a  sort  of  flavor  of  this 
foreign  fiction  in  the  magazine  called  Poet  Lore,  which  in  the  last 
ten  years  has  turned  its  attention  largely  to  publishing  transla- 
tions of  these  writers,  together  with  criticisms  and  discussions  of 
their  merits.  And  here,  as  in  other  lines,  the  Everyman's  LJbrary 
is  doing  very  wonderful  work. 

We  have,  as  I  see  it,  a  duty,  an  opportunity,  and  an  omen 

19 


of  great  good  fortune:  a  duty,  to  stop  wasting  our  time  and 
money  on  our  own  popular  novels  and  magazine  stories,  which 
are,  for  the  most  part,  trivial  and  useless ;  an  opportimity,  to  read 
and  know  books  which  open  up  a  new  earth  and  a  new  heaven; 
an  omen  of  what  the  American  people  and  the  American  literature 
may  be  in  the  future.  If  Scandinavia,  Germany,  Russia,  and 
Italy  have  great  literatures  to-day,  great  literary  ability,  why 
should  we  not  hope  to  reap  the  benefit?  Scientists  are  wont  to 
say  that  the  mingling  of  blood  and  culture  made  the  English  race 
what  it  is. 

This  is  our  task  to-day,  and  no  people  have  ever  worked  on 
so  large  and  splendid  a  project.  Can  we  amalgamate  Norse 
enthusiasm,  German  philosophy,  French  artistry,  Russian  mysti- 
cism, and  Latin  emotion  into  a  new  American  race,  American 
literature  ? 


20 


Selected  Bibliography 


SCANDINAVIAN. 

Andersen,  Hans  Christian.     1805-1875. 
O.  T. 

Only  a  Fiddler 
The  Improvisatore 
The  Two  Baronesses 

Bjomson,  Bjornstjernet  ed.  by  Edmund  Gosse.     1832-1010. 

Synnove  Solbakken 

Arne 

The  Bridal  March 

In  God's  Way 

Heritage  of  the  Kurts 

Sigurd  Slembe 

Ibsen,  Henrik,  tr.  by  William  Archer.     1828-1906. 

A  Doll's  House 

Ghosts 

The  Vikings  at  Helgeland 

Hedda  Gabler 

Little  Eyolf 

Lagerlof,  Selma.     1858- 

The  Story  of  Gosta  Berling 
The  Girl  from  the  Marsh  Croft 
From  a  Swedish  Homestead 

Lie,  Jonas.      1833-1908. 

Niobe 

The  Commodore's  Daughters 

The  Barque  Future 

The  Pilot  and  His  Wife 

Strindberg,  August,  tr.  by  Edwin  Bjorkman.      1849- 

The  Dream  Play 

The  Link 

The  Dance  of  Death 

Miss  Julia 

The  Stronger 

There  are  Crimes  and  Crimes 

21 


GERMAN. 

Auerbach,   Berthold.      1812-1882. 

On  the  Heights 

Black  Forest  Village  Stories 

Aloys 

German  Tales 

The  Villa  on  the  Rhine 

Landolin 

Dahn,  Felix.     1834- 

Felicitas 

Ebers,  George  Moritz.     1837-1898. 

Serapia 

Homo   Sum 

Uarda 

An  Egyptian  Princess 

Frenssen,  GustaT.      1863- 

Jorn  Uhl 
Holyland 
Klaus  Hinrich  Baas 

Freytag,  Gustav.     1816-1895. 

Debit  and  Credit 

Ingo 

The  Lost  Manuscript 

Goethe,  Johann  Wolfgang  von.     1749-1832. 
Halbe,  Max.      1865- 

The  Rosenhagens 
Hauptmaim,  Gerhart.      1862- 

The  Sunken  Bell 

Hannele 

Lonely  Lives 

The  Weavers 

The  Coming  of  Peace 

And  Pippa  Dances 

Elga 

Heyse,  Johann  Ludwig  Paul.      1830- 

In  Paradise 

The  Children  of  the  World 

A   Divided   Heart 

Mary  of  Magdala 

Rosegger,  Peter.      1843- 

The  Forest  Schoolmaster 
Scheffel,  Joseph  Victor  von.     1826-1886. 

Ekkehard 


22 


Sudermann,  Hermann.     1857- 
The  Joy  of  Living 
Magda 
Dame  Care 
Morituri 

Fires  of  St.  John 
The  Wish 
John  the  Baptist 
Regina 
Rosen 

Wagner,  Wilhelm  Richard.     1813-1883. 

RUSSIAN. 

Dostoyevski,  Pedor.     1821-1881. 

The  Brothers  Karamazov 

Crime  and  Punishment  ' 

Injury  and  Insult 

The  Idiot 

Prison  Life  in  Siberia 

Poor  Folk 

Gogol,  Nikolai,  tr.  by  Isabel  F.  Hapgood.     1809-1852. 

St.  John's  Eve,  etc. 
Dead  Souls 
Tards  Bulba 

"Gorki,  Maxim" — Alexel  Peyeshkoff.     1868- 

FomS,  Gordy^eff 
Children  of  the  Sun 
The  Smug  Citizen 
A  Night's  Lodging 
Summer  Folk 

Merejkowski,  Dimitri,  tr.  by  Herbert  French.     1866- 

The  Death  of  the  Gods 

The  Romance  of  Leonardo  da  Vinci 

Peter  and  Alexis 

Tchekoff,  Anton.     1860-1904. 

tJncle  Vanya 
Invanoff 
The  Sea-gull 
The  Swan  Song 

Tolstoi,  Lyof,  ed  .by  Nathan  H.  Dole.     1828-1910. 

The  Cossacks 

Anna  Kar^nina 

War  and  Peace 

Master  and  Man 

My  Confession,  My  Religion,  etc. 

23 


TorgeneT,  Ivan.     1813-1883. 
Lixa 
Smoke 
On  the  Eve 
Fathers  and  Sons 
Virgin  Soil 
Dimitri  Roudine 

POLISH.  ; 

Sienkiewicz,  Henryk,  tr.  by  Jeremiah  Curtiii.     1845- 

Quo  Vadis 

With  Fire  and  Sword 

The  Deluge 

Pan  Michael 

HUNGARIAN. 

Jokai,  Maiirus.     1825-1904. 

Peter  the  Priest 
The  Nameless  Castle 
Black  Diamonds 
A  Hungarian  Nabob 
The  Day  of  Wrath 
Timar's  Two  Worlds 

BELGIAN.  ;  ; 

Maeterlinck,  Manrice.     1862- 

Princess  Maleine 

The  Intruder 

The  Blind 

The  Seven  Princesses 

AUadine  and  Palomides 

P^lleas  and  M^lisande 

Home 

The  Death  of  Tintagiles 

Joyzelle 

Monna  Vanna 

The  Treasure  of  the  Humble 

Sister  Beatrice 

Ardiane  and  Barbe  Bleue 

The  Blue  Bird 

FRENCH. 

Balzac,  Honors  de,  tr.  by  Katherine  Prescott  Wormeley.     1799- 
1850. 

Eugenie  Grandet 
P^re  Goriot 
Cousin  Pons 
The  Country  Doctor 

24 


Bazin,  Bene,  tr.  by  A.  S.  Rappoport.     1853- 

The  Children  of  Alsace 

"This,  My  Son" 

Redemption 

The  Coming  Harvest 

The  Nun 

Bourget,  Paul.     1852- 

Pastels  of  Men,  2  vols. 
The  Land  of  Promise 
The  Screen 
The  Disciple 
Domestic  Dramas 
Antigone 

Cherbuliez,  Victor.     1829-1899. 

Count  Kostia 

Joseph  Noirel's  Revenge 

Prosper  Randoce 

Coppee,  Francois.     1842-1908. 

True  Riches 

The  Rivals 

Tales — ten 

The  Substitute — in  Stories  by  Foreign  Authors 

Baudot,  Alpbonse.     1840-1897. 

Jack,  2  vols. 
Numa  Roumestan 
The  Nabob 
Tartarin  of  Tarascon 

Bumas,  Alexandre,  pdre.    1802-1870. 

Bumas,  Alexandre,  flls.     1824-1895. 

Erckmann,  Emlle.     1822-1899,  and  Chatrian,  Alexandre.    1820- 
1890. 

The  Plebiscite 
The  Conscript 
Waterloo 

Flaubert,  Gustavo.     1821-1880. 

Madame  Bovary 
Salammbo 

"France,  Anatole" — Jacques-Anatolo  Thibault.     1844- 

The  Crime  of  Sylvestre  Bonnard 

Thais 

The  Red  Lily 

Mother  of  Pearl 

The  White  Stone 

25 


Gautier,  Theopbile.     1811-1872. 

Captain  FracasBe 

Stories 

Avatar — in  Tales  Before  Supper 

Jettatura 

The  Mummy's  Foot — in  Stories  by  Foreign  Authors 

Hervieu,  Paul.      1857- 

In  Chains 
Hngo,  Victor  Marie.     1802-1885. 

Huysmans,  Joris-Karl.     1848-1907. 

The  Cathedral 
**Loti,  Pierre" — Louis  Marie  Julien  Viaud.      1850- 

An  Iceland  Fisherman 

Disenchanted 

Madame  Chrysanth^me 

Jean  Berny,  Sailor 

The  Book  of  Pity  and  of  Death 

A  Child's  Romance 

Maupassant^  Guy  de.     1850-189.S. 

Pierre  and  Jean 
The  Odd  Number 
Strong  as  Death 

M^rimee,  Prosper.     1803-1870. 

Carmen 

Colomba 

The  Venus  of  Ille — in  Tales  Before  Supper 

Musset;  Alfred  d^.     1810-1857. 

Three  Novelettes  and  Valentine's  Wager 

Ohnet,  Georges.      1848- 

Antoinette 
Dr.  Rameau 
The  Ironmaster 

Rostand,  Eklmond.      1864-  * 

Cyrano  de  Bergerac 

L'Aiglon 

Chantecler 

''Sand,  George" — Dudevant,  A.  L.  A.     1804-1876. 

Sue,  Eugene.     1804-1857. 

Verne,  Jules.     1828-1905. 

Zola,  Emile,  tr.  by  Ernest  A.  Vizetelly.     1840-1902. 

Paris 

Lourdes 

Rome 

Truth 

The  Attack  on  the  Mill — in  Stories  by  Foreign  Authora. 

26 


ITALIAN. 


Amicis,  Edmondo  de.     1846- 

Military  Life  in  Italy 

Cuore  (known  also  as  The  Heart  of  a  Boy) 

Aimunzio,  Gabriele  d*.     1804- 

The  Maidens  of  the  Rocks 

The  Flame  of  Life 

The  Dead  City 

Francesca  da  Rimini 

The  Daughter  of  Jorio 

The  Dream  of  a  Spring  Morning 

The  Dream  of  an  Autumn  Sunset 

Fogazzaro,  Antonio.     1842-1911. 

Leila 

The  Saint 

The  Sinner 

The  Patriot 

The  Woman   (known  also  as  Malombra) 

The  Politician 

Manzoni,  Alessandro.     1785-1873. 

The  Betrothed 

Serao,  Matilde.     1856- 

The  Ballet  Dancer  and  On  Guard 
Fantasy 

Verga,  Giovanni.     1840- 

Under  the  Shadow  of  Etna,  containing  Cavalleria  Rusti- 

cana 
The  House  by  the  Medlar-tree 


SPANISH. 


Bazan,  Emilia  Pardo.      1852- 

A  Christian  Woman 

Morrina 

The  Mystery  of  the  Lost  Dauphin 

A  Wedding  Trip 

Echegaray,  Jose.      1832- 

The  Madman  Divine 

Mariana 

The  Son  of  Don  Juan 

The   Great   Galeoto    (known   also   as   The   World   and  his 

Wife) 
Saint  or  Madman  (known  also  as  Folly  or  Saintliness) 

27 


Galdos,  Benito  Perez.     1845- 

Gloria 

Leon  Roch  * 

Marianela 

Trafalgar 

The  Court  of  Chas.  IV. 

Electra 

Dofia  Perfecta 

Valdes,  Armando  Palacio.     1853- 

The  Marquis  of  Penalta 

Maximina 

Sister  Saint  Sulpice 

The  Grandee 

The  Joy  of  Captain  Ribot 

The  Fourth  Estate 

Froth 

Valera,  Juan,  tr.  by  Mary  J.  Serrano.    1824-1905. 

Dona  Luz 
Pepita  Ximenei 

MISCELLANEOUS. 
Modem  Ghosts. 

Pastels  in  Prose,  French,  tr.  by  Stuart  Merrill. 
Stories  by  Foreign  Authors.     10  volumes: 

Russian,  Scandinavian,  Spanish,  French  (3  vols.),  German 
(2  vols.),  Italian,  Polish,  Belgian,  Hungarian. 


IN  "EVERYMAN'S  LIBRARY." 
Balzac,  Honore  de. 

The  Country  Doctor 

Cousin  Pons 

Eugenie  Grandet 

Old  Goriot,  etc.  (known  also  as  Pere  Goriot) 

Daudet,  Alphonse. 

Tartarin  of  Tarascon 
Dostoy^vski,  Fedor. 

The  House  of  the  Dead 
Crime  and  Punishment 

Dumas,  Alexandre. 

8  volumes 

Eirckmann,  Fmile  and  Cbatrian,  Alexandre. 

The  Conscript 
Waterloo 

Goethe,  Johann  Wolfgang  von. 
Hugo,  Victor  Marie. 

28 


Ibsen,  Henrik. 

Ghosts 

An  Enemy  of  the  People 

The  Warriors  at  Helgeland  (known  also  as  The  Vikings  at 

Helgeland) 
A  Doll's  House 
The  Wild  Duck 
The  Lady  from  the  Sea  % 

"Sand,  George." 

Devil's  Pool 
Francois  the  Waif 

Scheflfel,  Joseph  Victor  Ton. 

Ekkehard 
Tolstoi,  Lyof. 

War  and  Peace,  3  vols. 
Master  and  Man 

Childhood,  Boyhood,  and  Youth 
Anna  Kar4nina 

Tui^^nev,  Ivan. 

Virgin  Soil 


29 


References 


SCANDINAVIAN. 

Boyesen,  Hjalniar  Hjorth.  .  .  .A  Commentary  on  the  Writings  of 

Henrik  Ibsen. 
Essays    on    Scandinavian    Litera- 
ture. 

Brandest  Geoi^e Henrik      Iheen,      Bjornstjerne 

Bjornson:   critical  Studies. 

Goss,  Edmund  W Ibsen. 

Studies     in     the     Literature     of 
Northern  Europe. 

Horn,  Frederik Scandinavian  Literature. 

Lee,  Jennette The  Ibsen  Secret. 

Lind  af  Hageby,  L. August  Strindberg. 

Moses,  Montrose Henrik    Ibsen :    the    Man    and   his 

Plays. 
GERMAN. 

Boyesen,  Hjalmar  Hjorth ....  Essays  on  German  Literature. 

Coar,  J.  F Studies  in  German  Literature. 

Francke,  Kuno Glimpses  of  Modern  German  Cul- 
ture. 
A  History  of  German  Literature. 

Heller,  Otto Studies  in  Modern  German  Litera- 
ture. 

Robertson,  John  G A  History  of  German  Literature. 

Thomas,  Calvin A  History  of  German  Literature. 

Wells,  Benjamin  W Modern  German  Literature. 

Witkowski,  Georg The  German  Drama  of  the  Nine- 
teenth Century. 
RUSSIAN. 

Baring,  Maurice Landmarks  in  Russian  Literature. 

Bazan,  Emelia  Pardo Russia :  its  People  and  its  Litera- 
ture. 

Bruckner,  A A  Literary  History  of  Russia. 

Dupuy,  Ernest The  Great  Masters  of  Russian  Lit- 
erature. 

Kropotkin,  Petr Russian  Literature. 

Merejkowski,  Dmitri Tolstoi  as  Man  and  Artist,  with  an 

essay  on  Dostoievski. 

Panin,  Ivan Lectures  on  Russian  Literature. 

Phelps,  William  Lyon Essays  on  Russian  Novelists. 

Turner,  Charles  Edward Count  Tolstoi. 

30 


Vogu6,  E.  M.  M.,  vicomte  de .  ,  The  Russian  Novelists. 

Waliszewski,  Kazimierz A  History  of  Russian  Literature. 

Wiener,  Leo An  Anthology  of  Russian  Litera- 
ture, vol.  2,  The  Nineteenth 
Century. 

Wolkonsky,  Serge Pictures   of   Russian   History   and 

Russian  Literature. 

FRENCH. 

Bnmetiere,  Ferdinand Essays  in  French  Literature. 

Honore  de  Balzac. 
A     Manual     of     the     History     of 
French  Literature. 

Dowden,  Edward A  History  of  French  Literature. 

Ihiclaux,  Mary The  French  Procession. 

Gosse,  Edmund  W French  Profiles. 

Hart,  Jerome  A Sardou  and  New  Sardou  Plays. 

James,  Henry,  jr French  Poets  and  Novelists. 

Konta,  Annie  Lemp A  History  of  French  Literature. 

Matthews,  James  Brander.  ..  .French  Dramatists  of  the  Nine- 
teenth Century. 

Pellissier,  Georges The  Literary  Movement  in  France 

during  the  Nineteenth  Century. 

Saintsbury,  G.  E.  B Essays  on  French  Novelists. 

A  Short  History  of  French  Litera- 
ture. 

Stephens,  Winifred French  Novelists  of  Today. 

Taine,  Hippolyte  Adolphe. .  .  .  Balzac. 

Wells,  Benjamin  W A  Century  of  French  Fiction. 

Modern  French  Literature. 
Wright,  C.  H.  Conrad A  History  of  French  Literature. 

ITALIAN. 

Garnett,  Richard A  History  of  Italian  Literature. 

Hutton,  Edward Italy    and    the    Italians.       ( d'An- 

nunzioj 
Kennai'd,   Joseph  Spencer.  .  .Italian  Romance  Writers. 

'♦Ouida''    Critical  Studies.      (d'Annunzio) 

Sedgwick,  Henry  Dwight.  .  .  .Essays  on  Great  Writers.      (d'An- 
nunzio) 
SPANISH. 

Clarke,  H.  Butler Spanish  Literature. 

Kelly,  James  Fitzmaurice. ...  A  History  of  Spanish  Literature. 

MISCELLANEOUS. 

Brandes,  George Eminent  Authors  of  the  Nine- 
teenth Century. 

Chesterton,  G.  K Varied  Types. 

Crawford,  Virginia Studies  in  Foreign  Literature. 

Hale,  E.  E.,  jr Dramatists  of  Today. 

31 


Huneker,  James    Iconoclasts. 

Egoists. 
Overtones. 

James,  Henry,  jr Partial  Portraits.      (Daudet,  Mau- 
passant, Turgenev) 

Peck,  Harry  Thurston Studies     in     Several     Literatures. 

(Zola,  Tolstoi,  Daudet) 

Saintsbury,  G.  E.  B The     Later     Nineteenth    Century. 

(Periods    of    European    Litera- 
ture) 

Symons,  Arthur Studies  in  Prose  and  Verse.  (d'Aa- 

nunxio,  Balzac) 
The   Symbolist  Movement   in  Lit- 
erature. 

Thorold,  Algtir Six  Masters  in  Disillusion. 


32 


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